


My Angel in the Christmas Tree

by SerotoninShift



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Illustrations, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, M/M, Mention of a death in the family, Merry Promarey, Poorly-thought-out protests, The Burnish still have fire powers but it isn’t a dystopia, and Kray is still a jerk but he’s not so homicidal in this one, real silly hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerotoninShift/pseuds/SerotoninShift
Summary: “I’m not coming down,” Lio Fotia says. “This is public property, I have a right to be here.”Lio’s incredibly stubborn expression is rendered less impressive by the hood of the puffy white one-piece snowsuit he’s wearing cinched tight around his face. He’s sitting on a small section of board, legs dangling over the edge.He’s about sixty feet up, near the top of the Promepolis town square Christmas tree. He’s attached to the tree by loops of chain that wrap around the trunk and his waist, secured in front with multiple padlocks.“I’m not asking you to come down,” Galo says from his perch in the bucket of the crane truck. “Do you like hot chocolate?”~featuring art by @Easy_yase!~
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos, Past Lio Fotia/Kray Foresight
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74
Collections: Promare Holiday Potluck 2020





	My Angel in the Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Fantastic art by [@Easy_yase](https://mobile.twitter.com/Easy_yase)!
> 
> Thanks to Easy and [Succubitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Succubitch/) for beta-reading!

“I’m not coming down,” Lio Fotia says. “This is public property, I have a right to be here.”

Lio’s incredibly stubborn expression is rendered less impressive by the hood of the puffy white one-piece snowsuit he’s wearing cinched tight around his face. He’s sitting on a small section of board, legs dangling over the edge.

He’s about sixty feet up, near the top of the Promepolis town square Christmas tree. He’s attached to the tree by loops of chain that wrap around the trunk and his waist, secured in front with multiple padlocks.

“I’m not asking you to come down,” Galo says from his perch in the bucket of the crane truck. “Do you like hot chocolate?”

Lio gives him a narrow-eyed, suspicious look.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!” Galo reaches down and grabs the thermos he stashed in the bucket. “It’s the good kind, just like my abuelita used to make. You want some?”

Without waiting for an answer, he uncrews the little cup from the top of the thermos, then the cap, and pours a generous portion of hot chocolate into the cup. He holds it out. Lio eyes him suspiciously.

“You first,” he says.

“What, you think I poisoned it?” Galo scoffs. “No worries, here.” He takes a big sip of the hot liquid, licks his lips theatrically, and then holds it back out.

“Okay,” Lio says semi-reluctantly, and reaches out and takes the cup in his mittened hands. He carefully raises it to his lips and takes a tiny sip. His eyebrows levitate into his hairline.

“This is good,” he says. “It’s kind of spicy?”

“It’s got red chili in it,” Galo says proudly.

Lio eyes him, looking suspicious again.

“You’re not up here to bring me a hot drink,” he says. “Did Foresight send you?”

“Who?” Galo puts on an exaggeratedly innocent expression. Lio scoffs.

“Don’t pretend to be dumb,” he says. “I’ve seen you fawning over him in the background of his press conferences. You’re his pet firefighter.”

Galo scoffs in turn.

“I’m no one’s pet,” he says. “I go where my burning soul takes me. I may owe the Mayor a life-debt, but I’m here because I heard someone needed rescuing. And that’s what I do.”

Lio sips the hot chocolate. He looks unconvinced. “I don’t need to be rescued,” he says. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re chained to a Christmas tree,” Galo points out. “I don’t think that falls under anyone’s definition of ‘fine.’”

“I’m protesting,” Lio says. “It’s my first amendment right.”

“What are you protesting?” Galo asks.

“Kray Foresight,” Lio says.

Galo furrows his brow.

“His policies?” he asks.

“His _existence,”_ Lio says acidly.

Galo taps his lip thoughtfully. “You might need to be more specific,” he says. “The Mayor isn’t going to step down or something just because you’re in his Christmas tree.”

Lio scowls. “He hates bad publicity,” he says. “This tree is the center-piece of the Christmas celebration. I thought it might give me some leverage in negotiations.”

“But do you have specific demands?” Galo asks. “You gotta have clear goals if you chain yourself to a tree. And your BATNA.”

“My what.”

“Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement,” Galo says. “I learned about it in an online course.”

“I _do_ have specific demands. I want Foresight to fully and equally fund the Burnish-district schools in this godforesaken town. And my Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement is to cause Foresight maximum inconvenience and embarrassment,” Lio says.

“I know what this is _really_ about.” Galo taps the side of his nose.

“What,” Lio says flatly.

“You two used to date.”

Lio, who has just taken another tiny sip of hot chocolate, chokes on it and starts coughing.

 _“So?”_ he protests when he catches his breath. “That has nothing to do with funding allocation. The budget process as it stands is patently discriminatory. It needs to change.” 

“Lio, you know there’s a coalition working on that, right? Even my fire department has gotten involved. They’ve been lobbying Foresight and the Budget Committee for a year. You might not know because you haven’t been living here. You moved to the big city like five years ago, right?”

Lio scowls, even deeper than before.

“I wouldn’t be back here if I wasn’t the executor for my dearly departed grandmother’s estate,” he says bitterly. “Merry Christmas to me, I suppose.”

Galo frowns. “Sorry,” he says. “That’s gotta be tough.”

Lio sips the hot chocolate meditatively.

“She was a hundred and five,” he says. “She had a good life. She went out with no regrets.”

“Right on,” Galo says. “That’s how I wanna go, too. Good for her. Still. It must be hard, having to be her executor during the holidays. Dealing with family stuff. Dredging up old memories. Coming back to your hometown. I get it.”

“Do you?” Lio says, disbelieving. “I sincerely doubt it.”

Galo leans in confidingly.

“Listen, Lio,” he says, “I used to think Mayor Foresight hung the moon. But being in the fire department, I’ve learned a lot about Burnish issues. And… you’re right. He’s kind of a dick about some things.”

Lio gives Galo a startled look.

“We’re working on him,” Galo says. “And there’s room for all kinds of tactics. I just don’t know if chaining yourself to the Promepolis Christmas tree is really the most effective. Plus there’s a storm forecasted for later tonight.”

Lio crosses his arms—carefully, as he still has a half-full mug of hot chocolate in one hand.

“I’m committed to making a statement,” Lio says. “You think I’m going to come down just because an attractive firefighter asked me to? You’ll need a stronger argument than that.”

Galo grins. “You think I’m attractive?” he says happily. Lio blushes.

“You are. Purely objectively. As I’m sure you know.”

Galo can’t stop grinning. “Okay,” he says. “Let me convince you. I’m good at cheering people up. How about this; every time I make you smile, you have to take off one of those chains. If I get them all off you, I get to take you down from this tree.”

Lio narrows his eyes.

“Interesting,” he says. “How do you intend to do that?”

“Check this out,” Galo says, and whips his shirt off over his head.

“Oh my g…” Lio doesn’t have a chance to finish the sentence before Galo starts popping his pecs rhythmically. Lio snorts very inelegantly and starts laughing before he can stop himself.

“Hell yeah!” Galo crows. “No one can resist these guns!” He flexes his arms. “I did some pole dancing to put myself through the firefighting academy,” he confides, doing a (relatively modest) body roll. “There’s no shame in appreciating a stunning physique.”

Lio is still laughing, unable to completely stifle it.

“All right,” he says. “You win this round.”

Lio carefully nestles the mug of hot chocolate in a branch of the Christmas tree. He fiddles with a cable lock around his waist that was clearly meant for a bicycle. He carefully enters the combination into the lock and unfastens it. Then he pulls the cable out from the tangle and holds it out to Galo. Galo takes it and sets it on the floor of the bucket.

“Okay,” Galo says, and leans on the edge of the bucket on his elbows. “I think we’re off to a good start here.”

“You had the element of surprise,” Lio says, face serious again. “You’re going to have to do better than that going forward.”

“No worries,” Galo says. “I have many charm points.” He gestures at the mug perched in the tree branch. “Don’t let it fall,” he says. “You want a refill?”

“Yes.” Lio grabs the mug from the branch and holds it out. Galo pours another generous portion of hot chocolate into the mug. Lio pulls it back, holding it under his nose.

“It’s really quite good,” he says.

“My abuelita made it spicier,” Galo says. “I tone it down a little. She was a firecracker. Tell me about your grandma?”

Lio takes a sip. “She was very much a firecracker, too,” he says. “She was a competitive fencer. She collected swords. I have to… I have to deal with _so many swords.”_

Galo widens his eyes. “Badass,” he says. “Did she teach you any fencing?”

“A little,” Lio says, and takes another sip of hot chocolate.

“What’s the wildest thing you ever did together?” Galo says, smiling.

“Well,” Lio says, and Galo sees the corner of his lips twitch as a smile tries to sneak up on him. He catches it just in time, sobering his expression.

“I was a senior in high school,” Lio says. “She knew I liked this one punk band that was coming to town, and she got us two tickets. I told her she probably wouldn’t like the music, but she said she wanted to hear what ‘the youth’ were listening to these days. She insisted on coming. I was mortified. But they loved her in the mosh pit.” Lio smiles wistfully. “She was really great,” he says.

Galo lets Lio sit there in nostalgic silence for a long moment. Then he says gently, “You’re smiling. You gotta take off a chain. We agreed.”

“Ah!” Lio says, coming back to himself. “Shoot. I forgot for a second. Okay, you get another one.” He puts the hot chocolate down on the branch again. Then he spins the dial of a combination lock by his waist a few times, eventually tugging it open. He pulls the second length of chain from his waist and hands it to Galo. Galo puts it on the floor of the bucket. Lio hands him the lock, and Galo adds that to the pile.

“Your grandma would be happy that thinking about her made you smile,” Galo says.

“She would,” Lio says seriously. “I’m going to miss her. It hasn’t really sunk in yet.”

Galo lets the somber silence linger for a few minutes. It seems disrespectful to break it. But then Lio shakes himself and takes another sip of his hot chocolate.

“I guess I’m distracting myself,” he says. “With this stunt. I… Foresight seems like an easier target for my rage than the inevitability of death.”

“Yeah,” Galo says seriously. “I bet. What’s your beef with him anyway? Aside from the Burnish district budget stuff.”

Lio quirks an eyebrow. “That’s not enough?”

“Well, sure. But I’m guessing there’s more to it.”

Lio sighs.

“We went to Promepolis Community College together,” he says. “We hooked up junior year. We had such grand ambitions. We wanted to change the world. But… he’s always been willing to…” Lio grimaces. _“Compromise,”_ he spits.

“Hm,” Galo says noncommittally.

“We were supposed to have _morals,”_ Lio says, “and _stick to them._ Not _sell out_ for the tiniest whiff of power. He took contributions from basically _anyone_ for his mayoral campaign. He shut me out when I expressed concern.”

“So you left.”

“I tried to reason with him. But we fought all the time. It was awful.” Lio sighs. “I… removed myself from the situation. I never wanted to come back here, not while it remained his little fiefdom.”

“He’s not all bad,” Galo says. “He _did_ save my life that one time.”

Lio snorts. “Foresight, the hometown hero,” he says bitterly. “No offense, Galo, but he’s been _using_ you as a political prop.”

Galo shrugs.

“Okay,” he says.

Lio raises his eyebrows. “ _Okay?”_

“Yeah,” Galo says. “I mean, I know. But it goes both ways.” Galo grins at Lio. “Why do you think the Promepolis police aren’t out here arresting you right now?”

“I did wonder about that,” Lio says reluctantly.

Galo puffs up his chest.

“I convinced Kray it would play better with the press to handle it this way. He listens to me. He kinda has to! It wouldn’t look very good for the Mayor to be on the outs with his golden boy and the darling of Burning Rescue, would it?”

The corner of Lio’s mouth tilts up. “Why, Galo,” he says, “I wouldn’t have taken you for a political strategist.”

“I know stuff,” Galo says proudly. “And you’re smiling again.”

“Shit,” Lio says, remembering himself.

“You gotta take another chain off,” Galo says.

“Okay, okay,” Lio says. He reaches awkwardly into the pocket of his snowsuit and produces a key in one mittened hand. Galo has a moment of anxiety as Lio fumbles with the key. But he manages to keep his grip on it and unlock one of the remaining padlocks. Again, Lio extricates a chain from around his waist and hands it, and the lock, to Galo. Galo adds them to the growing pile in the crane truck bucket.

There’s one chain left around Lio’s waist. Galo leans on his elbows and regards Lio, sitting on his perch like a puffy, angry bird. He’s adorable.

“So, you’re up here because you wanted to get Foresight back for being a dick,” Galo says. “That’s fair, but there’s gotta be better ways of doing it. Ways that don’t involve sitting in a tree during the middle of winter.”

“To be honest,” Lio admits, “I didn’t think this through all that well.”

“That’s okay,” Galo says supportively. “I never think _anything_ through.”

Lio _almost_ smiles again. He catches himself just in time. Galo looks at him thoughtfully. Then he decides that his usual strategy of going for broke might work in this situation too.

“Hey, do you want to get coffee with me after this?” Galo asks. “There’s a little place right around the corner from here that makes a mean mocha. They have hot chocolate, too.”

“Are you asking me out?” Lio says.

“Yeah,” Galo says.

Lio gives him an incredulous look.

“I’m chained to a Christmas tree making an absolute spectacle of myself in order to get poorly-thought-out revenge on my ex, and you’re asking me out.”

“I like ‘em fiery,” Galo says.

Lio swings his feet, looking down.

“Yes,” he says softly. “I’d like to get coffee.”

“Oooooo!” Galo crows, delighted. “You’re smiling again! It’s a shy one this time, but I can see it!”

Lio glances up at him through his eyelashes and the little smile tugging at the corner of his lips gets imperceptibly bigger.

“That’s the last chain!” Galo says triumphantly. “You gotta come down now!”

“I guess I do,” Lio says. “Scoot that thing a little closer, I’ll put my legs in. I’ll take this chain off. And you can take me down.”

“Yessss,” Galo exults, fiddling with the controls of the crane truck bucket. It lurches over about a foot, until it’s within easy reach of Lio’s perch. Lio straightens his legs and hooks them over the edge of the bucket. Then he starts unfastening the last chain. It’s held together with another combination lock. Galo protectively wraps an arm around Lio’s back, guarding him from going over backward into the tree as he undoes the lock, unfastens the chain from around his waist, and slides carefully off his board and into the bucket beside Galo.

Galo grins at him.

“It’s almost too bad, you coming down,” Galo says. He winks. “The tree didn’t need an angel with _you_ in it.”

Lio blushes prettily, and Galo thinks this is shaping up to be a great Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter [@SerotoninShift](https://twitter.com/serotoninshift)


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